Light me up

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One of the hardest parts of saying goodbye to an adventure that has defined my character indefinitely, is to remember of a quote from my favorite song. It says, “when one door closes, open a window.”

That is the best way to think of my journey living in Europe. As I sit here at the airport, nearly tearing up, I have to think of a few things. If we never end the happiest moments of our lives, we can’t truly understand the value of the experience. These may be cliché notions but I am having to reach into my pocket and take them out because I don’t want to let go. We have such a huge planet that is so vast; we can spend an entire lifetime traveling around it. Though I haven’t left Europe during the course of this trip, I am to be forever restless to discover whatever else there is out there.

To be me. To travel. To be a traveler. To be a wanderer. To be a nomad. To see a train and want to get on it. To not care where the destination is, as long as it is somewhere new. To love public transportation. To plan the next trip in the middle of the current one.  To find the greatest peace in the simplest of things. To find a few minutes to sit and watch. To buy too many travel books. To feel the most comfortable in the airport. To talk to everyone you see. To walk long distances. To love the modest lifestyle. To feel lit on fire…all the time.

I’ve learned to be comfortable in the most uncomfortable situations. My biggest joys are new mountains, rivers, new colors and new people.. I am obsessed with soaking up new cultures. Small annoyances and mishaps become funny anecdotes. Whatever problems bubble up pass so easily. My biggest fears have slowly diminished.

What is life…to be genuinely happy and to realize that people and experiences mean more than anything else out there. Joy is the sun that shines through airplane windows. Joy is a bus ticket. Joy is witnessing two separate tables of people strike up conversation with one another, despite a language barrier. Living four months traveling the world teaches the truth about life and what it should be like. All of the people out there country-hopping know exactly what I am talking about. It is the priceless education of travel.

For those of us who know what I mean, trying to “find yourself” takes a while. We all think we know what we want, what we want to do, who we want, where we want to end up and what each day means. But how can we know any of that if we don’t step out of our own backyards. I don’t mean our physical locations, I mean the comfort of our limits. We can travel the world, sure. But to be a tourist and to be immersed in a culture are so different and produce completely contrasting results. One is a photo album of all the beautiful places we’ve been. The other is a photo album of all of the nights we spent playing guitar with locals until 3 a.m., of moments we lost our passports on the train, of the tiny hostel rooms we had to cram ourselves in, of the ferries we missed, of the protein bars we had to eat because we can’t afford anything else, of the best friends we made in the most uncommon of circumstances. I love getting uncomfortable, feeling dirty and walking so much my shoes break.

And so it continues, a life of always chasing a new sunrise. Here I come, Portugal.

T.

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Sangria: medicine for the soul

Last weekend, I was in a country that seems to understand that quality doesn’t mean a quantity of euros.

HOLA BARCELONA.

To get you to understand the environment I was in, I’ll post a landscape before I dive in to the beautifully cheap foods in Barcelona.

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Isn’t that beautiful? I know we see thousands of photoshopped landscape pictures all over advertisements and billboards, but that is an actual unedited picture…which I took.

So now you that you have an image of where I was, I will give you the low-down. Europe seems to be the most expensive area of the world, but I have discovered a city in Spain that understands how to bring in the big bucks.

It’s about quality. If you want to have a successful restaurant, you don’t need to charge thirty euros for a plate. Just IMG_0467charge fifteen euros for a pitcher of perfectly blended sangria and burritos. It really is that simple, people love burritos while in the sun… at the beach. We stumbled upon Carabela. The price range is from three-nine euros. So if you can’t afford much, you can definitely afford a gourmet meal like this one.

There were four of us in Barcelona eating at this juice and cocktail cafe and every single one of us, after trying multiple sangria mixtures throughout the city, agreed that this was the cafe we wanted to come back to three more times. That is really saying something. And here it is… so pretty.

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Those are freshly cut bananas, strawberries, oranges, limes, lemons all mixed together with some sugar, red wine and either lemonade or strawberry juice. We took a sip and starred at each other…thinking…smiling…confused… we couldn’t believe the wonderful mistake we just made. We simply walked up, were warmly greeted and sat down. That’s all! We tried sangria at other restaurants down the pier but nothing even came close.

It is truly amazing how easy it is to tell whether a restaurant takes four extra minutes to prepare their foods and drinks or if they throw it together. You think you know flavor, but when you find something that smacks you in the face with it, you begin to understand how important it is to do your research before entering a restaurant. Save those dollars for foods that do more than put nutrients into your body…find foods that make you close your eyes while you’re eating them.

And then this happened. A sandwich! A simple sandwich I could make at home, but because it was so freshly prepared, I knew it would take some time and love to accomplish this masterpiece. Avocado, lettuce, goat cheese, tomatoes and salsa on perfectly grilled toast. Not white bread you notice..this isn’t the United States.

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Remember, I don’t just blog about every food I eat while abroad. I only write about the foods that seem to jump off the plate and into my heart. I am leaving these images so large because I need you to see the intricate detail of the ingredients…it is vital you understand just how perfect the meals are.

And finally, so that you stop drooling and go find some food yourself, I’ll leave you with this last mouthful.

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Its called a magic burrito. Not because it has a wand and shouts “expelliarmus,” but because it looks like a painting and tastes like a trip to Playa del Carmen.  “Magic burrito” isn’t that actual name of it, but I am officially going to forever call it that.

In addition to the savory, tender chicken pieces, beans, cheese, some special sauce and other warm goodness, the chips and guacamole take the plate to a whole new level. You need that contrast of texture in the crunch of the chip and the cool, fresh waterfall of an avocado dip. IMG_0487

Now that you have some insight, go to Barcelona and visit this wonderful restaurant on the water. It is all outdoors, on old benches. Not to mention the adorable pup that meanders around and greets you with those puppy eyes. Take my advice because I will never write about a food that won’t move you.

T.